


Mr. Handtastic & The Avoghost

by Starrstruck_64



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV) RPF
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Crush at First Sight, Dancing, David is an awkotaco, Developing Relationship, Drunken Kissing, Eventual Relationships, First Meetings, Gen, Justin can’t handle his tequila, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Overthinking 101, POV Multiple, RPF, RPS - Freeform, Robbie knows everything on set, Semi-Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Teasing, The Author Regrets Nothing, idiots to lovers, implied shenanigans, meet awkward, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22127251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starrstruck_64/pseuds/Starrstruck_64
Summary: Robbie blessedly has decided to throw him a lifeline, “You’ll have to forgive David, his brain doesn’t kick in until his second cup of coffee on these early morning shoots.”Justin arches a brow at that but nods, “well, how do you take it?”Anyway you’ll give it to me.
Relationships: David Castañeda & Justin H. Min, David Castañeda & Robert Sheehan, David Castañeda/Justin H. Min, Robert Sheehan & Justin H. Min
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	1. What's In A Name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MischiefWriter9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MischiefWriter9/gifts), [SMANGST](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SMANGST/gifts).



> I have no excuse except I miss them both and I'm taking a break from 10 year hiatus of RPF/RPS because these two idiots inspire me. The title is a running joke of nicknames for the two that sleepy me thought was hilarious.

The secrecy surrounding number six on set was astonishing, truly there was no other way to describe the mood. More people knew who killed Kennedy than the details of The Horror.

David had never experienced such a level of confidentiality on set before. Sure he was no stranger to closed sets in the past, but this felt different; stricter.

He had yet to film with the mystery actor but he had seen the trailer with the ever changing nameplate. Truthfully he’s not quite sure what the different names are meant to accomplish, after they’d flipped their way from Brad through Rebecca it was obvious none of them had ever been remotely close to the real name. Still there was something exciting about the unknown.

Today was different though, today was the day he was going to meet the fabled number six. It was a little embarrassing how excited he was but he’d built up the moment in his head. It was a whole thing now. 

Which is why he wants to slap himself when he finally meets up with the man. In his infinite wisdom the first words out of his mouth are “you don’t look like a Rebecca.”

It’s a stupid tired joke and he wishes Robbie wasn’t here to laugh at him but then he’s always had the shittiest luck. Still the other man doesn’t look disgruntled in the slightest at the shitty joke, in fact he’s smirking faintly.

“It’s a family name.”

The reply is delivered so dead pan that David can’t help the snorted laugh that bubbles past his lips. He wishes a sinkhole would swallow him up; fuck he’d settled for a direct portal to hell enveloping him right about now.

The man doesn’t seem too bothered by David’s truly spectacular crash and burn first impression so he considers it a silver-lining to his cloud of shame. 

“My apologies I didn’t realize it was familial.”

Seriously there is something wrong with him. He can’t shut up and each word feels even stupider than the last. At this point he’s praying for God to just strike him dead out of his misery. The big guy seems busy though because David is still standing awkwardly in front of ‘Rebecca’ with Robbie face palming behind him trying not to outright laugh. It doesn’t matter though because David can see his shoulders shaking even if he can’t hear the damn guffaws.

The man is still smiling only now those eyes are sweeping over him and David has never felt so exposed in his life before. It’s like the man can see directly to his core, Hell maybe even through him. He feels the urge to confess something, anything, but he bites his tongue before he rattles off about how he pierced his nipple on a dare but kept it because it made him feel pretty. 

“For the record, I prefer to go by Justin.”

_Oh. Justin. Yeah that’s a better name._

David is sure he’s supposed to respond, introductions aren’t meant to be this awkward and yet here he is bumbling through what should be the simplest thing he’s doing today.

“David, David Castañeda.”

What the fuck. No, he did not just Bond himself. He’s contemplating self-immolation when the man, Justin, actually laughs.

“How very Bond of you Cassie.”

David feels his brain short circuit on the nickname. He’s been called De, he’s heard Junior, and even June, but this is the first time anyone has ever called him Cassie. He should fucking hate it, and yet he kind of wants to hear Justin say it again.

Robbie blessedly has decided to throw him a lifeline, “You’ll have to forgive David, his brain doesn’t kick in until his second cup of coffee on these early morning shoots.”

Justin arches a brow at that but nods, “well, how do you take it?”

_Anyway you’ll give it to me._

By the grace of god David doesn’t say the first thought that pops into his mind. “Oh umm three creams three sugar.”

“No wonder it takes two cups, you’re practically drinking milk,” Justin teases shaking his head as he moves to side step David.

Robbie snorts moving to fall instep with Justin and David can’t help the flush blooming across his cheeks. He’s going to blame the embarrassment on being exposed for his coffee on the reason his feet have decided they don’t actually work. Maybe it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibilities to hope for a stray arrow to put him out of his misery.

“Well, aren’t you coming Cassie?”

David startles slightly turning to face the duo. The look of shock must be apparent on his face because Justin’s posture changes to something bordering more on sympathetic versus shark circling a wounded dolphin.

“I offered to get you coffee...kind of need you there for that to actually work.”

Nodding slowly it takes a few more seconds backtracking the conversation before David realizes what’s happen and then his brain crashes. _Oh…_

“Earth to Cassie…?”

“Sorry...yes, coffee...um fantastic idea,” he nods moving forward to catch up with the other two actors ahead of him.

“Sure, if you can even call it coffee at that point,” Justin smirks knocking his elbow playfully with David’s.

David laughs, smiling brightly even though it wasn’t that funny. FML, David knows at that moment he is well and truly fucked.

 _Not yet_ , his brain provides almost mockingly.

“What do you think David,” Robbie asks from the other side of Justin.

And oh god they had been talking hadn’t they? It’s just a little bit hard to focus on the thread of things right now with his brain all fuzzy.

“Hmm..?” 

There’s an arm being draped around his shoulders and David swears his heart will beat out of his chest right then and there. “Leave Cassie alone, he hasn’t had his second milk,” Justin grins giving him a squeeze, “but we’re going to fix that.”

Yea, he’s fucked.


	2. I’m Just A Little Bit Nervous In Front Of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein there are slight misunderstandings but everything is fine, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next is Justin’s POV in this whole mess, and I swear there will be more than these three idiots as the story continues.

They’re sat at craft services two days later when Robbie suddenly sets his coffee mug down and leans across the table to snap his fingers in front of David earning him a sheepish look as the younger man realizes he’s been caught staring. Robbie at least has the good grace not to call David out, he just smiles indulgently watching the blush spread across his co-star’s cheeks.

“You know, he won’t bite unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

David has coffee in his nose and it burns something awful. Once he’s certain he won’t hack up a lung, David sends Robbie a withering look. “I could have died, asshole.”

Smirking at that Robbie hands over a clean napkin and sips his coffee. “Mm what a travesty he’d have to administer mouth to mouth.”

Cleaning up his mess that flush is back a deeper shade of pink this time and David can’t meet Rob’s gaze. He has a rebuttal on the tip of his tongue how Robbie isn’t playing fair but it dies the second Justin takes a seat opposite him.

“Really Cassie, egg whites? Why so boring?” Justin’s own plate is stacked with the world’s largest cheesiest omelette David has ever seen and a side of whole wheat avocado toast.

“It’s part of my diet for Diego,” David shrugs taking a bite of his meager dish.

“No way? They have you dieting? But you’re in a turtleneck and like 5000 different layers for like 98% of the show!”

David offers a small shrug and stabs another bit of egg whites. “Apparently my other 2% is very important,” he deadpans earning a snort from Justin. He can’t help the small smirk forming, he considers that little sound a victory!

“For what it’s worth I don’t think you need to diet,” Justin shrugs taking a bite of his omelet. “You look good enough on your own.”

David knows he isn’t actually Diego but those words have him forgetting how to breathe. He’s probably reading too much into this, it’s a nice compliment, meant to be friendly nothing more.

“Thanks,” he offers smiling shyly in return. It feels subpar as far as responses go but then he supposed It’s better than having a full on meltdown.

Breakfast falls into a companionable silence, which given how he’s usually privy to listen to Robert’s stream of consciousness styled rattling on and on, it’s nice. It’s why David is so taken off guard when Justin seemingly out of the blue says “you want to go out this weekend?”

He doesn’t repeat the coffee snort thank goodness but one of his grapes definitely goes down funny leaving him coughing until his eyes water. Okay maybe the compliment had been a little more than just friendly?

Justin pushes his glass of juice over looking a bit alarmed. Thankfully the coughing is subsiding and Robert is pointedly sipping his coffee and trying his best not to look smug. He’s failing terribly for the record.

“Sorry,” David croaks out once he’s gotten his breathing evened out. “Went down the wrong pipe,” he motions taking a sip of juice before his brain helpfully provides ‘your lips have touched the glass that touched his lips’ and he hates himself all over again for making it weird. “Yea I mean I’m free,” he nods sliding the juice back before he does something stupid like lick the rim.

Justin offers a smile taking a bite of his toast, “awesome because we were thinking of going out drinking.”

Oh. Of course it’s just friends.

“We?”

He hopes he doesn’t sound as crushed as he’s feeling right now. Judging by the little sympathetic smile Robert is flashing his way he figures he failed there too.

“Just some of the cast, Emmy, Cameron, Jordan, Robbie, yours truly....and you, maybe?”

So it’s not a date, and really he’s stupid to think he’d be asked out at fucking craft services, but it’s something. And Justin did take the time to ask him personally...

“Wait you knew you were going out and you didn’t tell me,” he’s looking at Rob a bit hurt. They were supposed to be friends.

“Hey it’s Justin’s shindig I don’t make a habit of just inviting people to tag along...besides he wanted to do the honors,” Robbie adds wrapping an arm around his costar’s shoulders. “Isn’t that right Jizzy?”

Justin makes a show of being annoyed with the physical contact as he squirms further down the bench. “Well I couldn’t text you, this is the first time I’ve run into you since Tuesday.”

David can feel his brows crease in confusion before his brain reminds him that Justin doesn’t have his number. Why doesn’t Justin have his number? ‘You went dopey lovestruck last time you met remember?’

Before David can think better of it he’s spewing out numbers. Because that’s the normal way to go about giving out your number to your very cute, very available, very open costar. He trails off when Justin’s face just morphs into a confused puppy look and rubs the back of his neck a bit nervously as he tries to explain why he’s yelling numbers.

“My number...you don’t have it, thought we should fix that, maybe?”

‘Such smooth very suave.’

That smile is back and Justin reaches for his phone, “one more time please now that I know you’re not secretly possessed.”

His cheeks are burning red but he does his best to power through. No sooner has he said the last number is his phone dinging with a notification: ‘Heyy Cassie it’s Justy :)’

“Now you have mine too,” Justin smiles taking another bite of his toast. 

His stomach flips reading the words and he can feel his lips smiling of their own accord. God is he fucking gone.


	3. Got A Hold On Me Like Glue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting Justin’s POV and some more awkotaco David

Justin kind of wants to elbow Robbie for exposing his careful planning to get David’s number. And okay sure he could have just asked Robbie for the damn thing or even gone middle school phone line and had him invite David to the outing, but neither one of those options appealed to him. He wanted to do the honors and now he’s been put on the spot; friends fucking suck.

“Isn’t that right Jizzy?”

Serious worst fucking friend ever just throwing him to the wolves. Justin may or may not amp up his annoyed reaction at the physical contact, squirming further down the bench and pointedly away from Rob. “Well I couldn’t text you,”  subtle Min, why not drop to your knees and beg for his number instead?  “This is the first time I’ve run into you since Tuesday.”  You desperate fool.

Justin watches as David’s brows furrow slightly in confusion, honestly it’s a cute look on the man. He can see the second it clicks that he never offered his number and in the next second David is suddenly spouting out seemingly random numbers.

He can feel the way his face twists into a look of pure and utter confusion. He has a feeling what those numbers are supposed to be but David is talking way too quickly and is clearly nervous so he’s currently stuck on the number 6.

“My number...you don’t have it, thought we should fix that, maybe?” David isn’t stuttering, but it’s a neat thing and that little sheepish smile has Justin’s stomach flipping in a approximation dangerously close to full blown crush. Hell who is he kidding he’d follow this guy to the end of the Earth if he asked.

Justin honestly can’t help himself, that little teasing smile is back in full force as he reaches for his phone, “one more time please now that I know you’re not secretly possessed.”

The flush is back and stronger this time on David’s cheeks, he is way too easy to tease. Any little comments sends him into a flustered blushing mess that Justin is quickly finding himself addicted to seeing. It’s just the younger man is really quite adorable. Don’t get him wrong, Cassie is fine af with a capital AF, but he’s also heartbreakingly awkward and painfully shy and it’s a truly lethal combination. Justin is the proverbial little boy tugging pigtails and honestly that whole metaphor never made sense to him until this moment. There’s a satisfying rush each time David’s cheeks go pink and he flashes that nervous smile. It just makes Justin want to try and get a repeat performance again and again; he may have a problem.

David doesn’t stutter through phone exchange attempt number two but it’s a near thing and if anything that just about breaks Justin. Seriously no human has the right to be so hot and cute at the same time, except for David fricking Castañeda apparently. As soon has he types the last number, Justin is quickly typing out a message: ‘Heyy Cassie it’s Justy :)’

He clicks send before he can overthink the double y and if the message is too blatantly flirty or not clear enough. He’s leaning towards the later because he laid it on pretty thick their initial meeting and even still hadn’t landed Cassie’s digits. Still he doesn’t want to risk sending a kissy emoji and fuck up whatever careful dynamic they’re currently navigating. Texting is terrible; he’d be much more comfortable writing a soliloquy or well crafted letter of intent. Go figure the medium used to make communication easier leaves him feeling out of depth.

“Now you have mine too,”he says with a smile when he hear’s David’s phone chimes. He tries to play it cool like he meant to be that smooth and focuses his attention on taking another bite of his toast. 

Judging by the small smile David is sporting when he looks at his phone, Justin figures he nailed his mark. Which is fantastic because this cocksure attitude does not come easy but it seems to be working for David which is the ultimate goal. He’s just hoping when they’re out this Saturday whatever dorkiness comes out a half dozen shots down is still enough to keep the man interested.

He’s so in his head planning things out that breakfast passes by far too quickly. It’s seriously annoying when his Apple Watch goes off signifying they need to head over to hair and make up to get ready for shooting.

“I’ll text you with the details for this weekend,” he says moving to stand tray in hand. “Assuming you’re still coming?”

“I’m free so yea, I mean that works since you have my number and all,” David flushes moving to stand as well. It’s obvious that isn’t at all what the younger actor wanted to say and Justin can tell he’s mentally berating himself for such an awkward delivery; it’s endearing.

“I do so no complaints when I’m sending you memes at 3am,” he winks moving to turn and toss his tray. 

Justin is far from vain, in fact he’s got an insecurity streak a mile wide from his stupid glasses to his floofy hair that never falls the way he wants it down to his skinny mini legs. That being said he would have to be an idiot not to admit said skinny mini legs led to a rather respectable pair of assets. He knows exactly what he’s doing when he turns on his heel and swivels his hips just so, it’s a practiced move that has made weaker men swoon; it makes David trip climbing out from the bench and drop his tray.

Yea, he’s still got it.


	4. I Get A Little But Nervous Around You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David getting ready for their group outing and promptly freaking tf out

It’s Saturday and David is freaking out. Hell he’s been internally freaking out since Justin sashayed away from craft services a few days ago. Except now he’s supposed to be getting ready for the cast outing and he’s got five different outfits across his bed and he’s no closer to figuring out what he should wear.

“You’re overthinking this, Justy isn’t going to care what you’re wearing,” Rob says from his spot sprawled on the floor by the closet.

“He might not care but i don’t want to dress as a bum.”

Rob rolls his eyes at that pushing himself up on his elbows to level David with his best are you stupid look. “You really don’t get it, he’s not going to care because you could show up in a hefty bag and he’s gonna be gaga for you.”

David feels like his cheeks are on fire and he pointedly doesn’t respond to Robbie right away just focuses on surveying the mass of clothes across his bed. Would a sweater be too much for a club? Is his black Buffalo jacket too undressed? 

Rob takes pity on David sighing loud enough to get the younger man’s attention. “Just wear those red jeans with that black v-neck.”

Moving the shirt atop the jeans David tilts his head looking the suggested outfit over thoughtfully before nodding. It’s really not that bad a look, casual enough he doesn’t look like he’s trying too hard but definitely nice enough it’ll show off his ass and the product of all these Diego workouts.

“Thank you Robbie, how could I ever do this without you Robbie, I’m buying you so many shots tonight as a thank you,” Rob parrots from his spot once it’s clear that David is going with the suggested outfit.

“Yea, yea thanks, you’re the best, my true hero,” he shoots back dripping with sarcasm.

Grinning Rob shakes his head, “well hurry up and get ready Romeo I’m calling us an Uber, so you better be ready in 20 or you can find your own ride there.”

The thing is David knows that Robert isn’t kidding. He’d much rather show up with a friend than awkwardly arrive alone because if left alone there’s a chance he will talk himself out of this entire outing altogether. He’s just really nervous and way too fucking sober for this, his brain won’t shut up and honestly he’s hoping a shot or four will be enough to get him out of his head.

“I’ll be ready don’t worry,” David grumbles as he takes the outfit to his en-suite bathroom to change. He wants to look good but the problem is he also wants to look like he hasn’t been thinking of this all week.How do you put in effort without making it seem like you tried way too hard to impress?

He is thankful that his hair has to be short for Diego, he doesn’t have time to falter between the whole gelled and tousled look or just whatever freshly towel dried I rolled out of bed look. Still he probably spends more time than is strictly necessary deciding on a cologne once he’s dressed. And even more time brushing, flossing, and gargling which he knows is presumptuous as fuck but he’s nervous and the last thing he wants is the off chance of a kiss happening and Justin tasting preciously reheated leftovers on his tongue.

He’s running through a last check when Robbie knocks on the bathroom door and in an affected sing-songy voice calls out “time to go Uber’s here!”

On a whim he uses some of that organic mango chapstick Tasha has insisted he buy because ‘chapped lips aren’t as attractive as you think, June.’ Okay so he’s nervous but he’s still a little hopeful? But his sister is right, on the off chance something happens he wants to put his best image first which includes soft kissable lips with the faint fruity taste of mango.

“Calm down I’m ready let’s go,” David grumbles even though he’s smiling when he opens the door.

Robbie does one sweeping glance of David from his head to his toes and offers a lecherous grin. “You clean up nice lover boy, now come on let’s not leave Justin waiting.”

David is certainly not flushing pink to the tips of his ears. He will deny it until his dying breath if someone mentions it to him. Still, his heart feels a little off best with anticipation and his stomach has that strange helium filled thing going on which has him wishing he would have pregamed a little before taking off.

Instead he protests weakly, “it’s not even like that Rob.”

Thankfully the lanky Irishman doesn’t push it he just smiles and says of course not as they slide into the back seat of the Uber.

Fuck is he really that transparent, David wonders and he’s back again to square one of being stuck in his head. Maybe this was a big mistake? Maybe he’s going to embarrass himself and make the rest of filming awkward as hell?

Before he can tumble too far down that rabbit hole of despair his phone pings. It’s not a weird occurrence by any means, and still he finds his brows furrowing as he unlocks his screen to see who texted.

Justin’s name flashes across the top of the screen, his grey text bubble staring back at him almost tauntingly:

_** (Txt) you’re still coming right? ** _

Well fuck. Okay so maybe it was a little like that? Maybe he wasn’t the only one freaking out?

Before he can think any better of it David sends back a simple ‘OMW’ and locks his phone once more. He’s just overthinking things, it’ll turn out fine he just needs to breathe.


	5. I Try To Resist But The Light’s Getting Low

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for Justin to freak the fuck out while attempting to appear like he’s well put together

Justin is kind of regretting getting to the club so fucking early. There was no real reason for him to be here this early. Well except for the fact that he is a chronic over thinker and really it’s just better for everyone’s sake if he shows up early enough to knock back a drink or two.

Except now he’s nursing his third piña colada still feeling a little antsy and the texts that Robbie is sending him aren’t helping any. 

_** (Txt): three words: You. Are. Welcome. ** _

_** (Txt): Remember me when you’re buying shots ** _

_** (Txt): cuz I picked the outfit you’re bound to be foaming at the mouth over. ** _

_** (Txt) seriously you owe me so much Justy :-* ** _

Justin’s not quite sure what he’s supposed to do with that information but he kind of hates that Robbie knows so much. It’s a little unnerving knowing that it would take one slip for David to know how and the fact that Justin doesn’t even need to be the slip up is downright terrifying.

Thankfully before Justin can formulate some idiotic half excuse for why he needed to bail, Emmy and Jordan spot him at the bar. He needs someone to hold him accountable before he actually listens to that little voice whispering he’s going to make a fool of himself tonight.

That’s how he ends up being talked into a round of shots with the girls and making an incredibly stupid mistake. Then again he’s not sure what he expected when he decided to mix rum and tequila.

The thing is Justin found out long ago that him and tequila mix about as well as gasoline and fire. Rum leaves him mellow, eats away at that social anxiety and leaves him smiling lazily and socializing. Tequila has a direct line to that little voice in the back of his mind that only has bad ideas to suggest. 

The tequila and rum churning in his belly make for one helluva combination. He’s finally edging into that relaxed state only now that little voice is whispering away some awful idea sober him would never go along with. The problem is he’s well into buzzed territory and that little voice is making way too much sense to ignore.

It’s such a stupid thing to do but that little voice is persuasive and before he knows it Justin has his phone in hand and is scrolling down to Cassie’s contact. It’s a fucking nightmare. That stupid little voice is egging him on and before he knows it he’s hit send on a message that reeks of desperation and he low-key is praying a black hole opens up and swallows him whole.

_** (Txt) you’re still coming right? ** _

Fuck. Fucking fuckity fuck fuck. What the fuck had he been thinking? That’s the problem with tequila, what modicum of control he likes to think he possesses, flies out the window and everything terrible he knows he shouldn’t do happens. Fuck.

“What the hell is going on in there, Min,” Emmy asks leaning closer so she can give Justin’s forehead a gentle tap. And of course that’s the icing on the fucking shit-show that is his life right now; of course Emmy would notice his panic, like a damn shark and he’s the wounded dolphin.

Still Justin tries his best to play it off as nothing, frowning as he bats her hand away, “what are you talking about?”

Emmy rolls her eyes at the obvious dismissal but she’s not one to give up easily, so when she crosses her arms and arches a brow Justin finds himself crumbling with her next words: “wanna try again Justin?”

And okay that just isn’t fair, Emmy is way too good at reading people. Can’t a guy have a mini freak out over a text he sent in peace without a coworker giving him the third degree on his weirdness? 

“It’s nothing important,” he tries again hoping his voice sounds steadier to Emmy than it does to him.

“If it’s not important why are you staring at your phone like you’re expecting it to reveal the answers of the universe,” Jordan pipes up from his other side working on her second cosmopolitan.

And fuck, is he really that damn see through? Honestly he’s not sure what’s more embarrassing, the text or that he apparently wears his anxiety on his face like a neon sign screaming ‘I fucked up’.

“I’m not,” he tries again but the words sound hollow and really it’s hard to believe when the screen lights up and he’s cradling his damn phone like it’s the holy grail.

“Uh-huh,” Emmy smirks sharing a look with Jordan and honestly that should annoy the fuck out of him, but he’s too focused on three letters staring back at him. OMW, because David would be a shorthand texter.

“Good news,” Jordan asks swiveling on her chair to face Justin more fully.

Emmy nods in agreement smiling brightly, “must be, he’s blushing.”

Any protests he has ready to say die on his tongue the moment he looks up from his phone. Thank god for small miracles because he spot Cameron through the crowd and Justin has just found a distraction to keep the girls from getting him to confess what’s bugging him.

Truthfully it gets a little bit easier to deflect with Cameron there. The guy is like a lovable teddy bear and he’s quite an animated story teller. That’s also how Justin ends up getting talked into another round of shots.

It’s a terrible fucking mistake. His tongue feels too big for his mouth and his lips are tingly, but worse yet that nice relaxing vibe is all but gone. In its place that little voice has taken up residence in his command center and he’s feeling way too big for his britches. It’s a dangerous combination, having one’s social anxiety tampered down enough that you have a false sense of confidence taking root in its stead.

Of course it’s when that revelation of ‘oh fuck I need water’ has been made that David walks in with Robbie. There’s not enough time to combat this inflated sense of self and Justin really hates that he was foolish enough to mess with tequila tonight of all nights. 

“Heeeeeyyy, looks like someone started early,” Robbie teases tugging Justin into a hug and then in one swift motion Robbie sends the shorter man careening into David.

Justin has all of three seconds to decide on a suitable place to land his hands before he’s crashing into David; his hands end up trapped between their chests and Justin really wants to hate Rob but he also can’t get over the solid muscle beneath his fingers or how good David smells this close. He’s also aware that his cheeks are burning and David’s hands have landed on his waist to steady him.

“Hi,” David smiles shyly and Justin knows they’re way too close but he can’t come up with a reason why that’s a bad thing.

“Hey,” Justin murmurs returning the faint smile, when his brain finally catches up to the fact that they’re very much in front of all an audience of co-stars. Carefully Justin takes a half step back to put some space between them as he hikes a thumb behind him, “can I get you a drink.”

David’s hands feel like fire on his waist but Justin focuses instead on making sure his voice stays steady. He knows he sounds fucking wrecked and over nothing too; he blames it on the alcohol even though he knows that’s only half right. 

“Seven and Seven,” David responds brain apparently catching up enough to realize his hands should have moved ages ago.

It’s a double edged sword. On one hand Justin feels a little more clearheaded without the reassuring weight of those warm hands on his waist, but the second they’re gone he misses how natural they felt anchoring him. That little voice is back and whispering all sorts of ways he can get them back, but he’s not about to fuck up the night before it begins.

“Coming right up,” he smiles turning on his heel and using the opportunity to slink away for some water as well. He pointedly ignores Rob’s lewd wink and Cheshire grin as he slides past to flag down the bartender.

He orders David’s drink and promptly downs his glass of water before ordering a vodka soda with cherries to nurse. It’s just easier to nurse a drink of his own than appear like he’s attempting to ply David with alcohol, and he’s never been a fan of water and whiskey, this is at least semi-sweet.

Drinks in hand he’s thankful to find that David has saved a spot for him at the table the group has migrated towards. Sliding in between David and Cameron, Justin hands David his drink with a faint smile, “your seven and seven, sir.”

Lowlights be damned, it’s hard to miss the way David blushes and honestly it’s a major ego stroke for Justin. He hasn’t gone and ruined this outing with awkwardness just yet which all things considered is a minor miracle.

Somewhere between David’s first and second drink Justin realizes that he spent the better part of 90 minutes worrying over nothing. It’s like second nature to be sat this close to David talking aimlessly over drinks. And if he’s reading things correctly there’s definitely some mutual flirting happening which is honestly reaffirming.

Things go a little hazy when David orders shots of patrón for the table, that little voice is back again and Justin really can’t come up with a reason to ignore it because damn if it’s not making perfect sense.

“You wanna dance?”

The music is trash, some club remix of a remix, but bass is thumping and truth be told Justin would take any excuse to have those hands on him again.

David in response downs the rest of his drink before he slides out of the booth with far too much grace for someone that’s been steadily drinking the past two hours. Seriously nobody has a right to move so beautifully when Justin is sure he’s going to make a fool of himself in the next few minutes with his shoddy attempts at dancing.

“You coming,” David asks arching a brow when he notices Justin has followed his lead.

Justin nods dumbly taking one more swing of his vodka soda and sends an errant prayer hoping someone cares enough to help him get through this with his ego still mostly intact. He doesn’t exactly trip, but it’s a near thing in his hasty scramble to follow David to the dance floor.There’s a steadying hand on his forearm and a pair of concerned amber eyes roaming his face in the next second.

“You sure you’re okay to dance?”

With all the bravado that only a night of mixing liquors can give you Justin smiles brightly leaning in close enough that he’s well within David’s bubble, “Cassie, I was born to dance.”

He was not. 

But that little voice is on a roll and the line seems to have relaxed David enough that they’re back on course leading the way to the dance floor. Justin just hopes the fake it til you make it adage will translate to his two left feet.


	6. Daft Pretty Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robbie’s POV while the gang is at the club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been sitting half finished in my drafts for about two weeks. Of course inspiration strikes in the form of insomnia.
> 
> Hopefully the next update will be quicker I’m just juggling a bunch of WIPs and my muse doesn’t always cooperate.
> 
> On a more serious note stay safe out there and practice good hygiene and take precautions re: covid-19. Please wash your hands and if you can stay home please do so, the sooner we can flatten this curve the better off we will be as a whole.

When Justin ambles after David towards the dance floor Rob can’t help but grin. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to see that Justin was absolutely sloshed; Hell that was obvious to anyone in the vicinity with a pair of eyes.

It was also plain to see that David was on a mission to seduce and his eyes were set on Justin. He wasn’t fooling anyone with the sway of his hips as he wrapped his fingers around Justin’s wrist and tugged them onto the dance floor.

“Did you know about that,” Emmy asked scooting down the booth closer to Robbie as she motioned to the pair weaving through the crowd.

Robert snorted at that taking a long sip of his Paloma, “Emmy darling even our resident Lorax picked up on that development, do keep up.”

Emmy rolls her eyes giving Robert a nudge in retaliation, “I don’t have as many scenes with either of them like you do.”

“Mm, they’re pretty obvious about it though. It’s actually adorable in a roundabout awkward way watching them interact.”

As if to prove his point Justin sways into David’s space as the younger actor’s hands land awkwardly a few inches above Justin’s hips. They’re still a foot apart and while Robert isn’t close enough to be sure he’d bet his left kidney David is flushed pink all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Oh....okay now I feel a little foolish. Have they always been so middle school awkward around one another?”

Robert grins letting his eyes leave the dance floor to focus more on Emmy instead. “Justin once shimmied and David tripped over the benches at craft services. Hell you should have seen him try and give Justin his number, that patented Diego stutter reared it’s head and I thought he was going to self-immolate from embarrassment alone.”

Emmy is laughing, an almost sympathetic tinge to her tone, as she places a hand over her heart. “Oh gosh I didn’t know it was that bad. Poor thing, he does realize Justin is just as interested right?”

Robert arches a brow at that, “honey, even with those signs Justin doesn’t even know David fancies him.”

“No...you can’t be serious?”

Robbie tips back the rest of his drink before answering, “why else do you think Justin drank his body weight in liquor tonight?”

“If you ask me its about damn time,” Cameron adds as he reclaims his seat opposite of Robbie, passing Jordan a fresh margarita.

“Honestly, David has been pining like a lovesick teen,” Jordan nods working on her drink.

“Clearly I don’t pay attention to the gossip mill,” Emmy pouts keeping her eyes on the two idiots dancing.

Rob shakes his head watching his friends. They’re laughing and so clearly drunk, a little clumsy in their movements, but they’re happy. Justin has the coordination of a newborn foal, and David is apparently a handsy high energy drunk, because even though there’s some godawful techno pop blaring, he’s got Justin pulled close in a modified bachata.

“They can’t dance for shit while drunk,” Cameron muses with a laugh.

“It’s not all bad,” Robert murmurs tilting his head watching the two move slightly off beat on the dance floor.

“I think it’s cute,” Jordan adds. “I mean David can be so quiet sometimes it’s nice seeing him visibly excited.”

Emmy nods in agreement keeping her gaze focused on the two as David gives Justin a spin. “I mean that’s the first genuine smile that didn’t follow a self deprecating comment I’ve seen on Justin.”

Robert hums in agreement, Emmy isn’t wrong, maybe the liquor is mostly to blame but tonight is the first time in a long while that he’s seen Justin actually cut loose. It’s a nice sight seeing his friends in such a happy mood, he just hopes the tentative flirting doesn’t die away when they sober up come tomorrow.

“Oh my god,” Jordan squeaks reaching for Emmy’s hand.

“Oh...!” Emmy is smiling brightly as she tugs at Robbie’s shirt sleeve motioning to the dance floor.

Oh indeed! 

Under the multicolored techno lights on the dance floor, David is kissing Justin. It’s not a clumsy drunken kiss either, there is clear intent behind the kiss not some sloppy convenient make out. Honestly Rob is surprised it took them this long.

“Well good for them,” Cameron nods earning the group’s attention once more. “They’ve been dancing in circles for weeks...it’s about time if you ask me.”

Rob is inclined to agree, he’s been privy to both sides of that particular pining conversation. His only worry is that they aren’t sober enough, and come morning they’ll be back at square one oblivious as fuck. Then again the way Justin is tugging David by his belt loops through the crowded dance floor towards the exit maybe they’re more sober than they’re letting on.

“Did they just...” Emmy sounds uncertain but the knowing smirk across her lips tells a different story.

“My dearest Emmy, that is how rumors get started,” Robert smirks. “You just have to turn a blind eye until they confirm otherwise it’s just hearsay.”

“Like David’s gonna kiss and tell,” Jordan shakes her head. “Well good for them....I mean, it’s so rare you actually crush on someone who returns the sentiments. I for one think it’s sweet.”

“Mmhm which is why we aren’t going to smother them with questions.” Receiving three nods in agreement Rob relaxes a bit swirling his drink in his glass. “Excellent, he last thing I want is to make filming awkward,” he grumbles making a face of disgust.

Rob’s phone buzzing a moments later, after he’s lost sight of David and Justin in the throng of parring, doesn’t really surprise him. Neither, if he’s being honest, does the accompanying text from David saying ‘sorry for bailing, but don’t wait up I’ll be home late.’

Smirking Rob shakes his head as he pockets his phone, “alright shots all around, on me.”

The occasion seemed deserving of celebratory shots. After all, it’s not every day one’s two idiot friends admit their mutual crushing.


	7. Kiss Me in the Shadows of Every Spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David’s pov at the club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for the long wait I wish I had an actual excuse but I just couldn’t but focus and needn’t up starting like 3 other fics before I could get back to this one.
> 
> Truthfully I’m not sure where this story is going other than random little excerpts as inspiration strikes. At least these two knuckleheads keep me busy with lots of fodder.

David is not drunk. Tipsy? Without a doubt, but he’d stake money on the fact he’s still sober enough that he’s got more than two brain cells working together right now. He’s just also nervous as heck and wishing he had a little more liquid confidence.

It was easy to project an air of confidence, but acting level-headed when Justin asked him to dance is much different than actually being calm. He feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin on the dance floor. It’s too loud, the music is terrible, Justin is suddenly way too close, and his heart has decided to do that weird little nervous flutter whenever he’s under Justin’s direct scrutiny.

It’s awful; how much he loves it.

Justin is a goofy dancer, like he’s overthought every decision at least thrice before executing the movement. It’s cute in an adorably awkward way. 

It feels so middle school, an actual ruler can fit between them, and honestly David really wants to change that but he’s not too sure if Justin wanted to dance as friends or if this was part of some bigger scheme. The stilted movements Justin is currently making could go either way. They’re far from sexy, could simply be Justin goofing around, but if he’s not mistaken Justin’s been staring at his mouth the last half of the song and David’s fairly certain friends don’t do that.

Besides Justin is pretty sloshed, and as his brain so helpfully provides, people tend to be less guarded with their intentions the more liquor they imbibe. He should know, the first time he’d let tequila get the upper-hand he’d ended up shakes up with some nameless John in the bathroom stall. A wonderful time but certainly not something he’d be willing to go for stone cold sober.

The point is he knows Justin is usually more reserved and right now he’s being goofy and it’s cute. It doesn’t have a right to be this cute.

“Oops,” is all the earning David gets before Justin is stumbling forward and erasing that last foot of space and crashing into him. His hands move forward on instinct catching Justin by the waist and they’re suddenly so close, if he were so inclined he’s certain he could count the other man’s lashes.

Swallowing a bit nervously, David tries his best to steady Justin, slowing his movements from whatever frantic jerking movements he’d been attempting before. He counts it as a win when Justin’s hands slide up his chest and he stays close rather than pulling away.

“You should be careful, won’t always be here to catch you,” he murmurs and instantly wants to smack himself for being stupid.

Justin either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care and frankly David is thankful for small mercies. Instead Justin smiles, one of those rare ones that actually reach his eyes, and David feels his stomach barrel roll and plunge into oblivion.

“I’ll take my chances,” Justin murmurs and one of his hands is sliding up further so long fingers can brush along the nape of David’s neck. “I don’t think you’ll let me fall.”

He feels fragile in that moment, see through like glass and twice as breakable as porcelain. It’s a dangerous combination, tequila hot in his veins and Justin warm in his arms.

The music is terrible, but it’s still got a familiar enough beat that David can latch onto as his brain kicks into survival mode before it completely turns to mush. Justin has all the coordination of a newborn foal, but this is something David can do in his sleep, to do it tipsy is second nature.

Moving one hand up, David takes hold of Justin’s free hand and starts to lead him in a simple bachata. It’s a bit sloppier than he’d like but it keeps them pressed close and it grants him the sweetest sound he’s ever heard; Justin’s delighted laughter as they twirl aimlessly on the dance floor.

David feels as if his face is going to split from smiling. He’s trying his best to commit every sensation to memory. He’s not foolish enough to think this I’d a set up to something more. Truth is Justin has been drinking steadily the last few hours and come morning he likely won’t remember how close they’re pressed together or the the shy smiles and brush of fingertips on skin, so yea David is memorizing every detail he can.

He’s focused on the curve of Justin’s lips when he’s thrown for a loop he couldn’t possibly see coming. One second he’s noting the pink hue and how soft they look, kissable even, and the next his brain is coming to a screeching halt.

“How many songs have to end before you kiss me?”

He blinks once, then twice more for good measure as those words rattle around his brain on a loop. There’s no way he just heard that. Right? 

Looking up at Justin he’s greeted with a small smirk and arched eyebrow. “Well?”

Everything feels overwhelming in that moment. His tongue is too big for his mouth, heart off kilter hammering away too fast behind his ribs, and his palms are sweaty. Justin’s eyes don’t look nearly as glassy or vacant as someone who’s had enough to trip over themselves while dancing, and it suddenly clicks that he’s been played. He’s strangely okay with it.

“So you can hold your liquor hm?”

Justin smiles brightly like he’s just heard the funniest joke, and maybe he has; they’re both idiots.

“Reports of my drunkenness may have been greatly exaggerated,” he murmurs, and those fingers are back to lightly brushing over the base of David’s neck.

David can’t help but smile at that shaking his head slightly, “five,” he adds picking up an old strain of the conversation.

“Smartass,” Justin mumbles.

“The smartest,” and then David is leaning in and slotting his lips with Justin’s.

Turns out those lips are definitely as kissable as they look. This wasn’t exactly the place he’d thought of a first kiss happening, had always imagined it’d be somewhere quiet, intimate, maybe over a joint back at the apartment, never under an array of multicolored lights with a shitty techno remix of Timber playing in the background. Still, it’s going etched into the memory banks because this is one of those times where the fiction pales to the real thing.

He’s feeling warm, like he’ll burn up here on the dance floor, but it’s okay because Justin is there, fitted perfectly under his hands, mouth pliant and willing, and it just feels good. Privately he reminds himself to send Tasha a thank you for the chapstick, and he’ll blame that stray thought for why he’s caught off guard by the next words.

“Wanna get outta here,” Justin murmurs between kisses, and when did those hands find the front of his jeans?

There’s a subtle tug at the belt loops and David is nodding eagerly, stealing one final kiss moving after Justin before the other man pulls away and tangles their fingers together instead. 

It takes all his focus but David manages to get together enough brain cells to send Robbie a text: (Txt): sorry for bailing, but don’t wait up I’ll be home late.’

“I can’t believe you made me wait five songs,” Justin teases unlocking the door of his rental. 

“Had to make you work for it,” David murmurs tugging Justin in once more.

It takes them another ten minutes to actually get in the car, not that David is complaining.


End file.
